


Overcast

by blasted0glass



Category: Oglaf (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-18 15:45:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18702628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blasted0glass/pseuds/blasted0glass
Summary: Shipping is a term that is overloaded.





	Overcast

**Author's Note:**

> There’s a spoiler. Although the comic this is based on is mostly safe, Oglaf is often very NSFW. Click the following [link](https://www.oglaf.com/drizzle/) at your own risk. You don’t need to read the comic to understand this story.
> 
> Also, this story was originally an entry for the r/rational biweekly rationalist writing challenge: Shipping.

Ten days had passed since I was ‘pressed into service’ on one of the Duke’s cogs. I despaired. It was overcast, and I was so certain of my doom that I thought I would never see the sun again.

The Duke had ordered my assassination; the Captain of the ship had made me disappear. I knew it was the Duke’s doing because the Captain had cheerfully explained it to me after his men had untied me. We were just out of sight of land and I had no idea which direction land would be in, because I’m not a sailor. I’m an accountant. The sailors had pistols. Of course, the idea of me violently resisting was laughable.

The Captain went on to explain that killing me was his fallback plan. He needed a new deck hand and “someone who's good with numbers”. Dead men are wholly useless, accountants only partially so. I must admit that the Captain was much more appreciative of my profession than the Duke, who hadn’t cared for my honest reporting of the value of his domain. Death and taxes, I guess, except the Duke could escape the latter by judicious application of the former.

After a few days on the cog it became apparent that, besides honesty, my problem was that I am a terrible sailor. I’m not physically strong. I hate getting drunk and I couldn’t find my sea legs. I didn’t get along with the crew. The hope that they would let me slip away when we next put in, rather than kill me outright, slowly died as I considered my predicament.

I hated the Duke with a fiery passion, and I was hardly unique. This wouldn’t have been the first time someone had disappeared. No others had ever turned up after disappearing. If allowed to go free, I would certainly take news of the Duke’s tax evasion back to the King.

Therefore, I could not be allowed to go free.

The Captain seemed smart enough to see this logic. Logically, if he didn’t keep me on the ship he should have me executed. It became apparent that I was useless on the ship. My conversations with the rest of the crew proved futile: nobody wanted to befriend a dead man.

On the eleventh day it began to rain.

Ceaselessly.

\---

The sea overflowed the shore, it inundated the harbor.

\---

Coastal towns disappeared, their meager debris vanishing beneath the pelting rain. Cropland sank beneath short, choppy waves.

\---

A mad god had decided to destroy the world. Obviously. It wasn’t the first time it had happened and I doubted it would be the last.

We picked what we could out of the floating debris and stayed far away from the moving shore. The waters there were full of muck and the drowning land teemed with people. Some fled inland, but some stayed near the shore, waiting for a chance to seize a ship. We wanted no part of that, and besides, the new seas were too shallow for safe sailing.

More than once we saw the wreckage of a hastily-built vessel that hadn’t been able to set sail. I theorized that these were uniformly overrun by desperate refugees. It looked like nobody who was still on land would be able to get off of it.

Every day I had worse news for the crew. I was their accountant and our supplies were finite. They suggested we fish to supplement our diets--I suggested the fish would be sparse and furthermore sated, because of the flooding. Therefore none would go for a hook. My hypothesis proved correct. No one started to like me more just because I was right. I told them we should get some nets, but nobody listened to me just because I was right.

We considered looting other ships but decided against it. Our cog only had two cannon and a crew of twenty: bigger ships would win any confrontation. We didn’t have the means for piracy, and the only thing keeping us from piracy was means.

Eventually the water began to rise up the hills and mountains. This provided enough depth for sailing. We scavenged. Sometimes we’d find a floating carriage or house. We did our best to clean and eat the animals that had drowned in the flooding. We gathered wet wood and used it to cook soups made of desperate birds that alighted on our ship. I kept telling the crew to spare a few, to save meat for later, but they still refused to listen. By then, after weeks of bad news, I was well and truly hated. I didn’t want to step on their toes too much.

We had mere days of supplies remaining. There was talk of cannibalism--we’d seen many human corpses--but we didn’t resort to that yet. Perhaps the only reason they kept me was to eat me later. I will never know. We approached a hilltop castle with many things in mind.

I should mention that our ship had no women on it, and that our Captain was actually a very stupid man.

\---

“That’s not going to work!” I hissed. A few dozen yards away, on the top of a castle on top of a mountain-become-island, stood a duchess and her entourage of advisors and guards. The Duchess herself was middle aged, surrounded by a few nobles and their wives--but her compatriots seemed to be mostly younger guards and servants.

We were far from the dukedom we had left. In fact, it was my hope that the Duke and his precious, undervalued domain had long-since drowned. I didn’t recognize any of the nobles.  

The Captain insisted that I speak, since I was well-spoken, but he insisted I say dumb things.

“They will ignore us, and it will make them our enemies. I cannot just ask them for all their women.”

The captain laughed at me. He pulled his pistol from its holster and examined it idly. “I can ask if yer too much a coward, y’know,” he said. He smiled at his gun with a maniacal amusement. “Besides, we don’t have room for _all_ the women. Only the prettiest, and perhaps some food from the castle to keep ‘em comfortable.”

I tried to voice an objection and failed. Finally, I turned and called to the Duchess.

“Hello! It seems some god is destroying the world by flood!” I shouted. I wasn’t sure they heard me, given their lack of response, but then the Duchess tilted her head. I had the bizarre thought that responding to the obvious was beneath her, just like the rest of the drowned world. I continued: “Only people with boats are going to survive!”

“And you’re here to save us?” she called back. Her doubt cut through several dozen yards of rainy air.

“Uh… Yes! But we don’t have room for everyone!” They only continued to stare. “We have to be very practical. Think about the future of humanity!” She said something to her advisor.

“You’re only going to take attractive young women.” It was more a statement than a question.

“Something like that. Do you have any there?” The first mate elbowed the Captain, who elbowed me and told me what to say. I wanted to refuse, but he still had the pistol.

“Maybe you could... put on a parade?” The captain laughed again as my face burned with shame.

“We’ll see what we can do!” called back the Duchess. She retreated inside of the castle with a few of her advisors. Eventually I closed my mouth and sat down.

While we waited at a respectful distance, the water continued to rise. It was lapping above the windows of the first floor of the castle. I wondered if we’d end up gaining anything from this endeavor.

The rain poured.

\---

The Duchess shouted across the water. “We agree to send you some of our young and healthy women. Do not misjudge our actions; we care not for you, nor for saving humanity--but we do want our beloved daughters to survive.” I couldn’t believe it. She continued: “However! We demand a trade for this. For every woman we send over, we want you to send us a man in exchange.”

“Why?” I called back. I glanced at the Captain: he also looked confused.

“Two reasons. First, so that your boat isn’t overburdened. We want the women we send to have the best chance of survival, so send us your most worthless men. Second, we intend to put whoever you send to work.” The Duchess whispered to an advisor before continuing. “And failing that, to eat them!”

“What.” I said. It wasn’t loud enough for the castle group to hear. Behind me, the crew of the ship began to whisper.

“It doesn’t matter very much to us whether you send living men or dead men. We’ll trade for either. Let us know what you decide!”

_Oh._

“I volunteer to go to the castle!” I said as fast as possible.

\---

I sat at the front of the ship. The dinghy I’d have to row was lashed in the middle of the cog, where the deck dipped down, but I didn’t want to be near the others. They argued about dice and straws.

There’s a rather famous thought experiment that goes like this:

Imagine five bloodthirsty and greedy pirates that are perfectly rational. (If that requires mental contortion, just wait.)

They have 100 coins to distribute among themselves. They are going to take turns suggesting distribution plans, with the most senior pirate making the first suggestion. Then, the bloodthirsty and greedy pirates are going to have a fair vote on the plan. If half or more accept the plan, it is carried out peacefully. If less than half approve, the pirate making the suggestion is executed and the next pirate gets to make a new suggestion.

Keep in mind that the pirates are greedy, thus wanting as many coins as possible, and also bloodthirsty, preferring to kill each other if the payout would otherwise be equal. Also, they all have unshakeable faith in the democratic process. What will the final outcome be?

The traditional answer is this distribution: 98:0:1:0:1, with the first pirate giving later pirates a pittance since they know they’ll get nothing if the situation is allowed to progress.

Of course, in reality a complex web of social ties and rivalries would influence the pirates’ behavior. No clean, general predictions can be made. Real social interactions are much too complicated. A simple complication: you don’t give someone a single coin and expect them to remain an ally for long. Also, who is going to agree to settle things by vote if they think they’ll lose? And who would settle things by dice if they feel their standing is higher than that, that their loyalty deserves to be rewarded? A debate will inevitably ensue.

Behind me, the crew began to argue more heatedly. Straws had been drawn, but of course some people had disagreed with the results. I waited, as did those on the top of the castle tower. The water had risen to just below the roof of the castle.

\---

I wasn’t surprised, but I did flinch when the first pistol went off. I hit the deck. “Son of Sithrak!” someone shouted, and I heard more shots. The gunfire ceased after a few moments.

Our complement had dropped to sixteen. Or twelve, if you considered myself and some other live specimens who were about to get off the ship. The other losers were tied up, so I would have to row our dinghy over to the roof of the castle on my own. Those who would remain were apparently content to trade for eight women. All things considered, that wouldn’t be optimal for the future of humanity.

The most-hated pirate shouldn’t bother suggesting any plans. I went along with the flow.

\---

For the first trip the dinghy would only be laden with myself and two corpses. We would trade a few at a time in order to encourage compliance with the trade. The idea was to force the castle-goers to reveal a betrayal early, if they intended to make one, and to lose only corpses and a useless accountant.

When we said we’d only trade for two at a time, the Duchess asked us to wait while she consulted with her advisors. Finally they agreed to accept the corpses first.

I could survive for a little longer by making myself useful. Rowing the boat was tiring.

One of the dead was the former Captain. I idly wondered who would be Captain now. Perhaps I would have been able to predict the specifics if I had better known the crew. Several of the Duchess’s guards waited to receive me on the roof. One shouted a greeting.

As I stepped from the dinghy I felt a tingle go up my spine. It was a trap and I was about to die.

I can’t say how I knew my time had come, though I’ve often thought about it since. Perhaps it was the stiff body language of the guard that accepted the rope for the dinghy. Perhaps it was the quiet invitation to step through a window in the tower: out of the rain, and out of view from the ship.

But I think it was mostly the logic of the situation stewing at the back of my mind. These men were facing death, and their best chance at survival was the ship that I had just left. In that situation I might be desperate and murderous. I might consider betrayal.

In fact, I had been considering betrayal.

“Head Guardsman,” I said, falling short. The man who had hailed me turned back around. “I’m not allied with those men, those _pirates_. I’m their accountant, but I was a prisoner. I volunteered to come over here with the intent to betray them.” He only stared at me. “Know that I’ll be useful to you--I’m very knowledgeable about the ship and I could instruct your men in how to sail, and what remains of the supplies.” I learned then that I would lie to save my life. Glancing toward the dark window, I saw that the men on the roof had frozen. “Also, I’ve sailed and survived in these times when no fish bite and the best meal comes floating up from the depths. I have suggestions for how to make do on these new seas. Please, Guardsman, I’m on your side. Allow me to live.”

“You seem well spoken, for a pirate.”

“I’m an accountant.”

“You know, you insulted the Duchess severely,” he said. I could hear the respect and see the hatred, the former for the Duchess and the latter for me.

“I was being held at gunpoint, being told what to say.” The Guardsmen stared into my eyes. “I’m sorry. Please tell the Duchess I regret the offense already, indeed I regretted it the moment I was forced to say it.  I’d like nothing more than to help you take that ship from those despicable bastards.”

“That’s not on the agenda. Follow me,” he said. He stepped through the window. I didn’t follow him immediately.

“I don’t believe you.” I raised a hand. “I could call out to the ship now, warn them of your betrayal. They would sail away and you would all die, but I won’t call out. I could insist that I stay here and force you to do whatever you’re going to do in view of the ship.” I sighed, and tried to accept my hopelessness. “But I won’t do that either. I’ll play along with your trap just to give you the best chance of success. Even if you kill me, I’d rather you live than let the world be filled with their filthy spawn. Just know that letting me live makes your life easier, and you could always kill me later if you see fit. I’m cooperating.”

I started forward again, but he held up his hand. He spoke quietly to someone through the window before finally beckoning for me to follow.

When I stepped through the window I could see two men standing in the shadows to my left and right. There was a third man standing halfway up the stairwell. He was holding a crossbow and had it leveled toward me. They all looked frightened. The man with the crossbow tilted his head toward me, the weapon held perfectly steady.

“Strip, then.”

\--

I wordlessly removed my clothes. Perhaps the only thing that made them hesitate was the desire to keep blood off my outfit.

After they took my clothes they tied me up. I was being spared, for now.

The man to my right put on my clothes. He had long brown hair, but the head guardsman wordlessly sliced it down to a length similar to mine. Then, two slight men walked down the stairs to join the man in my clothes. These two were wearing dresses and veils. All three stepped out the window.

Scarcely a minute had passed. It was an impressive efficiency. I wondered what would happen now.

The rest had to be told to me later. It took a few minutes.

The only things I was able to perceive were cannon blasts and gunfire.

\---

“We’re sending the first two over now!” shouted the Duchess. “But just like you’ve decided to save your best for last, we have as well. Our two prettiest are here with me. This is Alicia, and this is Priscilla. We’ll send them over later.”

Naturally, all the men went to the fore to get a look at their potential new brides. They jostled each other on the raised deck of the cog. Some looked up at the top of the tower, some looked down at the dinghy. Someone threw open a wooden window covering.

A cannon loaded with grapeshot, fired into a crowd, is the most terrifying thing I’ve never seen. The slugs tore everyone in the line of fire to shreds. It killed most of the crew outright. The survivors were hiding below decks before the Duchess’s men could finish reloading, but it hardly mattered. By then the dingy had made it to the ship. The boarding party caught a rope and helped pull the ship close to the tower, defending themselves with pistols. When the ship got near men began to jump on it.

The cog I had sailed on for so long was overrun by trained guardsmen. Those of the original crew who had been tied--that is, who were unwilling trades--they were freed and instructed to defend, dooming them in the process. Ultimately I was the only person who made it off alive.

\---

The Duchess interrogated me personally. It had been her guards, her leadership, and her plan. She frightened me somewhat, particularly since I was tied up, nude, and I had insulted her, but also because she had arranged to kill eight men with a single shot. The plan had worked almost flawlessly, even down to the delay to ensure the water would have risen enough to bring the ship to a height level with the cannon.

I grew calmer as we spoke. It seemed she had a head for logistics, if I understood the thrust of her questioning correctly.

When I told her about our difficulties fishing, and the difficulty of finding useful debris, and my ideas regarding nets, she laughed and said perhaps she could make use of an accountant. I was untied shortly afterward and a guard was assigned to me. I felt only relief.

\---

“What are they doing?” The Duchess’s men had been loading supplies onto the ship for the last two hours. I’d even helped. Now, however, they were dumping barrels of salted meat into the water. They then emptied wet sacks of grain into the barrels. It seemed wasteful.

The water was three-quarters up the tower. Some of the barrels being brought up from below were wet. Others floated up on their own outside the tower. Men gathered these, methodically rowing the dingy around in circles to scoop them up.

The Duchess pointed. “A half-empty barrel will float. We’ll attach a few to the ship with ropes, and leave the rest floating together as a raft.”

“That’s a good plan.”

“Derek, my advisor of roads and commerce, came up with the idea.”

“But why are they dumping the meat?”

“We’re giving preference to food that has been dried or smoked, or will keep well. Beyond that, there will be no fresh water to wash the salted preserves.”

“Ah. Of course.” It amazed me how many supplies they’d had in the castle, but then, the water hadn’t risen instantly.

Apparently the Duchess had given up on having a boat constructed because she and her men were too busy dealing with a siege from refugees. She’d also been abandoned by the local Duke, her husband, who had gone further inland to negotiate some sort of passage. He hadn’t returned, and I wondered why dukes seemed to be so universally unreliable.

When the water had risen, threatening to make her hill an island, most of the refugees fled deeper into the mainland. The rest had been put to death, either by the guardsmen or the rising water. The Duchess had expected this as well, and had convinced most refugees to flee by killing a few preemptively.

She had also insisted that the men drag a cannon up the tower, and that they bring both cannonballs and grape. She was well-prepared and ruthless.

“We’re lashing empty barrels and furniture together into smaller rafts, so that those who won’t fit on the ship can still float. We’ll sail around nearby and look for supplies, returning to check on the rafts and stock up every evening.”

“You will keep them nearby so that you don’t lose them.”

“Exactly.”

“Did you get your men to accept this plan by promising to stay near the ones left on rafts?” She looked at me. “And then arranging that there’d be food with them, and thus a good reason for you to return?”

“No. They just have faith that I would not abandon them. Even if I couldn’t save them… most of my guards would die to save me, or for a cause I dictated.” Only one of her men had been lost claiming the ship.

“How do you command them so well?” I looked at her, and noticed that she was actually kind of pretty for an older lady. She was smiling, and I realized I had been smiling.

“I can’t explain swiftly, but I would enjoy the chance to elaborate. Later. Excuse me,” she said.

The Duchess then went to direct the loading: one man had been about to dump a barrel of sweets. Sweets, of course, were made mostly of fruit. Fruit was worth retaining.

I couldn’t see the sun, but for the first time in a long time it seemed like I might get to see it again.


End file.
